


Something Different

by Zoadgo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoadgo/pseuds/Zoadgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke can feel her resolve slipping away every day that Finn spends at her side. So one day she snaps at him, desperately trying to frighten him away from what she's sure will be a toxic relationship. Even after that, he keeps popping unbidden into her thoughts. So Clarke decides she needs something- or someone- different, to get rid of those memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Different

**Author's Note:**

> _Promt for you! Clarke goes to Bellamy after breaking up with Finn for comfort and tries to sleep with him and he tells her he can't until she loves him_

"You know what, Finn? It's over. I've had enough of you moping around me like a kicked puppy. I get that Raven left you, but you can't come crawling back to me after what you did. Leave. Me. Alone." 

Clarke isn't lying when she snaps at Finn, causing him to widen his eyes in shock before he turns tail and runs. She has had enough, but its not due to anger that she had snapped at him. She can feel herself wearing down every day that he spends glued to her side, feeling her resolve slipping through her fingers. That morning she had caught herself thinking that it might not be so bad to forgive him, and she hates herself for thinking that. She doesn't even trust Finn, how could she possibly entertain the idea of being in a relationship with him?

She heaves a sigh as he disappears behind a tent, dragging a hand through her hair. No doubt the confrontation would be the talk of the camp within minutes. Clarke just hopes that she won't get too much grief over it from--

"Well now, princess. That was quite the rejection. Normally people do that before they sleep with the guy, you know. "

Of course Bellamy had seen it. Clarke turns to him, silently cursing his ability to always find her at the most inopportune times. The sunlight highlights every muscle in his bare chest and Clarke forces herself to tear her gaze away. The smirk on his lips seems satisfied, as if he's happy that she told Finn off. He probably is, everyone knows that him and Finn don't exactly get along.

“Good morning Bellamy. Still got that horrific shirt allergy, I see.” Clarke greets him curtly, but it only amuses him.

“And an excellent morning to you, I see you put on your grumpy pants today.” He teases her like a child as he pulls on a shirt that he’d been holding in his hand. Why hadn’t he put that on before leaving his tent?

“Fuck you, Bellamy.” Clarke turns and walks away, angry because her only other option is crying. She had really cared about Finn, but she couldn’t let herself be with him. Now she feels like something is out of place, like someone had started messing around with her heart and didn’t clean up after themselves. She needs time to sort through her feelings, to grieve the loss of a relationship she had killed, and she wasn’t going to get a chance to do that around Bellamy.

“My tent or yours?” Bellamy calls after her, but Clarke doesn’t stop. It’s such a juvenile response, yet it still puts images in her mind of what Bellamy could do with those muscles, with that wicked tongue of his…

Clarke shakes her head and speeds her steps to the dropship. As entertaining as those thoughts may be, they just make her feel worse. She shouldn’t be thinking about Bellamy, or anyone, like that. Her relationships are cursed, and she doesn’t want to cause more pain to someone she cares about. When she’s safely sequestered herself with the medical gear on the upper level, Clarke allows herself to break down a little. She doesn’t cry, but she crumples to the floor amongst the improvised med kits. 

She remembers how nice Finn had been to her, how his lips had felt against her skin, how his smile had always made her feel better. She feels the pain rise in her chest as she realizes that she doesn’t smile at him anymore. Her smiles have faded since lies became a part of their lives, and the joy she used to get from his antics had turned to exasperation at his naïveté. Then she remembers the pain in his eyes when she had rejected him just a little while ago. She caused that pain, once again to a loved one. Clarke hates herself for that, and she feels a shadow creep up on her heart.

But then Clarke’s thoughts return to Bellamy, and the darkness weighing her spirit down evaporates slightly. He’s one of the few people who can still coax a smile out of her, even if it’s usually at her own expense. His teasing is one of the few things that’s remained constant since they arrived on Earth. He’s not nice to her, unlike Finn, but perhaps that’s what she needs. Perhaps she needs something different in order to get thoughts of Finn out of her mind.

After a few moments when the sharp pain of loss has passed, Clarke pulls herself up off the floor. She’s allowed herself more time for emotions than she usually does, and she really does need to sort through these med kits. So she pushes all thoughts of boys out of her mind and tries her best to ignore the gnawing pain that’s still present within her.

She doesn’t finish until the sun has begun to set. Apparently even clear instructions weren’t enough for the people she had assigned to making the kits, so she had to disassemble everything and rebuild them from scratch. At least it kept her occupied all day. The scent of roasting meat wafts through the camp, reminding her she hasn’t eaten yet.

“Hey, Clarke!” Jasper waves her over to where Raven, Monty, and him are eating their dinner. They hand her some form of meat on a stick, and she feels her spirits lift slightly more at their easy companionship.

They don’t mention her conflict with Finn, but she keeps getting glances for the first few minutes before everyone gets absorbed in their own conversations. Raven pats her on the shoulder, a silent approval for her actions. But Clarke doesn’t think she deserves approval, not for hurting someone who’s only crime was loving her. She engages in their conversation with half her attention, the rest of it focused on Bellamy.

She decided at some point during her work, when Finn had popped unbidden into her mind again, that she definitely needed something different. Something to get him out of her mind. And who better than the biggest playboy in camp. Plus, Bellamy would probably kill for a chance to put the princess in her place.

So when Bellamy heads to his tent, sans groupies, Clarke waits a few moments before pleading exhaustion and following him. No one notices which tent she enters, except for the already topless inhabitant. He turns at the sound of his tent flap rustling and cocks an eyebrow at her.

“Decided to take me up on my offer, pri-“

She cuts him off by crossing the few steps between them, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling him down to her so she can crush her lips against his. He pauses for a moment, in which time she runs a hand up his chest, marvelling at the feel of the muscles, and wraps that hand in a gentle curve around the back of his neck. Then Bellamy seems to finally clue into what’s happening, and to Clarke's relief, he doesn’t push her away. 

She feels the heat of his hands as they grab her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her shirt rides up a little, allowing a spark to run through her when his fingers caress her skin. His lips move against hers, surprisingly tender. She nips at his lower lip, trying to prompt more action from him, but he pulls away and lets go of her.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, wondering why he doesn’t already have her naked on his bed.

He smiles at her, a true smile tinged with sadness, before replying. “You don’t want me. This is because of Finn.”

“So what?” She asks, feeling her temper flare at his accusation, accurate as it may be.

“Well, princess, as lovely as it would be, I’m not going to sleep with you. Because right now, you would be thinking of him.” He brushes a strand of hair away from her face and tucks it behind her ear, “When I do sleep with you- and that is a when, not an if- you’ll be thinking of nothing but me. You know why?”

Clarke swallows, nervous and excited at the genuine affection in his voice and shakes her head.

“Because I’m not going to fuck you until you love me. And I will win your love, one of these days.” He brushes a thumb along her jaw and lets out a sigh before pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead and turning away from her. “Good night, Clarke.”

Clarke stammers out a “’night” and stumbles back to her tent in a stupor. She lays on her makeshift bed and brushes her fingers over her lips lightly, still feeling Bellamy’s kisses pressed there, and tries to sort through her thoughts. She gives up at some point and surrenders to sleep still thoroughly confused. But all her thoughts before she falls asleep are focused on Bellamy, no one and nothing else.

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, this is based on the prompt at the start! Not smut, not exactly fluff, I don't know what to call this. Thanks to [coldsaturn](http://coldsaturn.tumblr.com) for fixing it when I fucked up the tenses!
> 
> As always, talk at me [on tumblr!](http://randommaces.tumblr.com) I love to talk, seriously. Thanks for commenting/viewing/leaving kudos <3


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